The weeping bird
by Shewhowrote
Summary: Joker/Jason non-con. Takes place during the beginning of "Under the Red Hood". Rated M for non-con, violence and mentions of pedophilia.


The sound of the crowbar connecting to his limbs echoed in the old warehouse, blending together with his groans of pain. The Joker's laugh cut worse than the cold metal biting his skin and the hard ground digging into his back. His arms, that were restricted with the sharp handcuffs, were twisted in a grotesque manner, and he had lost his feeling in them long ago. The high pitched , hysterical sound of the Joker's voice suddenly cut through the darkness.

"Wow! That looked like it really hurt." his voice slick with sickeningly sweet, pretend concern.

Jason didn't answer. The Joker's pearly, white teeth shone through the darkness in a wide grin, raising the crowbar over his head before it came crashing down on Jason's cheek, smashing his cheekbone and a few teeth. Again, this time on his lower abdomen, and then once again against his face, sending him groaning in pain to the floor. His collarbone, smashed. His knees, smashed. His vision blurry and one of his eyes bloodshot and closed almost altogether.

"Now hold on. That looked like it hurt a lot more." The Joker taunted him.

Jason grit his teeth and remained silent sans his heavy, struggling breathing.

"Now, let's clear this out. Okay pumpkin?" Jason cringed at the nickname.

The Joker gently stroked the stained crowbar and continued.

"What hurts more..?" He rose the crowbar over his head.

"A?" Across Jason's face.

"Or B?" Across his torso.

"Forehand?" His face again.

"Or backhand?"

Jason grunted out in pain every time the hard metal collided with him, but never ever would he cry out. Even now, lying beaten on his stomach on the cold, hard floor of the warehouse with a sadistic psychopath laughing hysterically, holding a crowbar behind him. Jason turned slowly, every bone, every muscle in his body screamed. Not ached, screamed. He caught the Joker through the corner of his eye. Grotesque pale skin, the perfectly applied makeup shining in the pale light of the fluorescent light above them. Jason opened his mouth to deliver an sarcastic retort, but out of his mouth came only whispers. The Joker got down on his hands and knees next to Jason's bruised and bloody face.

"A little louder lamb chop, I think you may have a collapsed lung. That always impedes the auditory." He taunted, gently stroking Jason's pitch lack, messy hair. Jason rose his head and spit a mouthful of blood across the Joker's pale cheek. The Joker cringed and the gentle fingers in Jason's hair gripped tightly and slammed his face into the ground, breaking his nose and splitting his lip. The Joker got up and conjured a handkerchief from his sleeve.

"Now that was rude. The first boy blunder had some manners."

Aah, the fabulous Dick Grayson. The first Robin. As if Jason wasn't being compared to him enough… He scoffed under his breath and turned to flash the Joker a devilish grin, now covered in blood. The Joker looked at him disapprovingly and wiped the blood of his cheek with the handkerchief.

"I suppose I should teach you a lesson so that you can better follow in his footsteps…" He stopped to ponder for a second.

"Nah, I'll just keep beating you with this crowbar!" He laughed again and crushed Jason's shoulder blade underneath his black, leather dresshoes.

Blow after blow the crowbar crashed against him. Every time it hurt, every time Jason managed to keep himself from screaming in pain. His entire body was covered in blood, bruises and cuts. He could barley move, and every little twitch of pain made the existing pain even worse. But still he did not cry out. Suddenly the Joker halted in his assault. His face twisted in a disappointed frown. He dropped the crowbar to the floor with a loud clang and crouched down next to Jason's face, stroking a stray piece of hair from his swollen, bloodshot eye.

"Why do you insist on spoiling my fun little bird?" the Joker asked with an pretend pout.

Jason was just about to deliver an amazing retort, but was interrupted by the Joker tugging at his collar, almost strangling him. The pain shot through all his limbs at the same time. Every crack the Joker had managed to inflict on him sent a flash of pain through his entire body. It took everything Jason had not to scream, as he managed to split his lip with his teeth when biting down to stop a groan of pain. The Joker smirked and came so close to Jason's face that he could feel the clouds of hot breath upon his cheek.

"C'mon. It'll feel better if you just…let it out." With that, a swift punch to Jason's stomach, sending him to the floor coughing blood and dry heaving the empty contents of his stomach.

He gasped for air, seemed as if he did indeed have a punctured lung. The Joker stood up again and removed his white, spotless gloves, revealing skin just as pale. He gazed down at Jason, gasping and groaning at the ground.

"Oh, you can do better than that lamb chop. " With that he ran his long, pale fingers down Jason's back.

Jason immediately froze. He didn't even dare to breathe. The Joker's hand ran down along the curve of his lower back, circling. He let out a low chuckle.

"He certainly did well with you…" Jason took a deep breath as the Joker's other hand caressed his neck, playing slightly with the hairs of the back of his head. "Although, you're no Greyson… That boy, he was something." The Joker taunted. Jason turned his head towards him glaring with a face of such malice, even the Joker widened his eyes. But just for a second, then his surprise was replaced quickly with a grin.

"Seems I've hit a sore spot." His hands traveled down towards Jason's tights clothed behind, tickling through the torn fabric.

"What's the matter? Are you upset that you'll never be as good as the REAL Robin?" he emphasized while grinning sarcastically and then starting to slowly massage one of Jason's butt cheeks.

Jason let out a ferocious growl and tried to deliver a kick towards his opponent, but the Joker's knee on his back, and a matter of human endurance stopped him. He ground his forehead against the ground and bit his lower lip from screaming. The Joker laughed and continued to run his hands all over Jason's body. Jason wanted to scream. He wanted to hit, kick, punch the life out of that sadistic bastard! But what could he do? He couldn't run away, much less fight back. He couldn't even call for Bruce to save him.

Where was Bruce?

Why would he leave Jason in a situation such as this? As if he'd read his mind, the Joker began laughing loudly.

"You'd think he'd be rushing to find you, wouldn't ya..?" he began pulling at the hem of Jason's pants with a hooked finger, not quite enough to actually pull them down.

Jason twisted and growled, even though it hurt like hell. Suddenly, the cold air hit his naked backside as the Joker finally pulled Jason's pants down to reveal his toned, and incidentally now very bruised behind. The Joker didn't laugh as he ran his fingers gently over the bruised flesh, he simply let out a low growl from the very back of his throat. Foreign hands on his body was a familiar feeling for Jason. When you're a kid alone in a big city, you do what you have to to survive. You had to swallow your non-existing pride and do what you could to live another day. But this was different. He wasn't a little poor kid anymore. He was Robin. Partner of Batman! And also, adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, the richest man in Gotham. But where was Bruce?

The Joker continued his silent exploration of Jason's backside, he kneaded the cheeks together and apart, massaging them surprisingly gently. Compared to the constant beating of cold metal, the gentle massaging should have felt soothing, but to Jason, it hurt worse than if the Joker's fingers had been smoldering lead. He groaned and wanted nothing more than to get away from those surprisingly cold hands. The Joker chuckled at Jason's weak attempt to crawl away.

"Now now little bird, you're not going anywhere just yet…" and with that, he slipped a finger into the tight heat between Jason's sculpted cheeks.

Jason immediately tensed at the invading intrusion. While this also was an familiar feeling, it always caught him off guard. And it hurt, it always hurt. He immediately began twisting and groaning, all while the Joker chuckled. Jason turned to look at the Joker again, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow. The Joker laughed again. "Aaw, look at the little bird, face all flushed and angry." he paused and his face suddenly got very dark.

"Then how about this..?" and with that, he thrust two more fingers deep inside Jason, who gasped for air.

He shuddered in pain and buried his face in the concrete floor. His breathing was short and erratic. He couldn't cope with this pain. But he would NOT scream. Even when the Joker wiggled his fingers inside him, making Jason gasp and moan. The pain had started to blend into a disgusting mix of ache and pleasure. Jason could feel his muscles relaxing as he melted into the touch. He breathed deep breaths and a string of drool ran along his chin. The Joker smirked.

"If only he could see you know…How jealous he'd be…" Jason didn't think as the Joker made an upward flick with his fingers earning a moan from him.

Jason felt sick, he wanted to throw up again. His earlier plea of Bruce saving him, suddenly became his greatest fear.

What if Bruce actually saw Jason like this? A Robin that couldn't even protect himself, and much less the city of Gotham. Dick would've never gotten himself into this situation.

Suddenly Jason felt as if he was 7 years old again, lying on the hard bed of some sleazy, 10 dollar motel, with a strange man, busy taking his moneys worth from him, not bothering to care that the little boy beneath him muffled his screams through the dirty pillow he'd buried his face in. It didn't matter that he bled, staining the already soiled sheets of the bed with spatters of crimson. And when it was all over, he'd throw a few crumpled 10 dollar bills before the weeping child and be on his way. Back to the bar, a broken home or his unknowing wife and children. The feeling of something much bigger than a finger prodding at him, snapped him out of his melancholy trip down memory lane. He could feel it, hot, dripping. He turned towards the Joker again, this time rage replaced with terror. The Joker looked at him with a smirk.

"This should make you sing…little bird." and with that, he pushed himself into Jason.

As if all the air disappeared in the room, Jason screamed with empty lungs. The feeling, the size and pain of it all, he could feel the familiar burning sensation of tears pricking at the back of his eyes. It seemed like it was going in for forever. Jason couldn't possibly imagine we're there could be room in his body to contain something so large. It was as if he'd move, his entire body would split open. He gasped for air and twisted in pain as the Joker was finally buried all the way inside him. As the Joker began to pull out again, Jason regained some of his breath, but as soon as the Joker plunged back in, with such force, it was quickly replaced with a small cry of pain. The Joker began laughing loudly.

"The bird is singing!" he pulled out again and then crushed into Jason who cried out another time.

"Again." said the Joker, in and out. Jason's cries started to become louder.

"Again!" shouted the Joker, pulling Jason's hair.

Jason was now screaming out. The pain was all. He couldn't even feel the cold bite of the concrete floor. All he could see was flashing white, and all he could feel was the pain from the Joker's successful attempt to break him.

"AGAIN!" And with that, Jason screamed one last time, before falling silent against the ground with empty eyes. Not screaming, not crying. The bird had sung his last song. Jason wasn't the only one who was finished. The Joker unsheathed himself from the broken boy beneath him, tangled his fingers almost lovingly in his sweat drenched hair.

"That was some beautiful singing, little bird…" he smirked down at the silent figure beneath him. "

But you know what they say…" He stood up and grabbed the crowbar from the floor. "It is the weeping bird who sings with the most beauty."


End file.
